


Wingwoman

by Badwolf36



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Alive Hales, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Cute, Depression, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, Human Hales, Inspired by Fanart, Kittens, M/M, Puppies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1827064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badwolf36/pseuds/Badwolf36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura begs Derek to visit the animal shelter and make a new friend. Derek goes, and somehow ends up with both a kitten and a date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wingwoman

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by this fantastic fanart: indecentdrawer.tumblr.com/post/77472116522. Go give the artist your compliments!
> 
> Also, this is my 20th Teen Wolf fic. (Got it in right before Season 4 started!) If you enjoy this work, I encourage you to check out some of my others by clicking on my author name. 
> 
> And, as always, please leave a comment if you like what you've read. They are always appreciated.

**Title:** Wingwoman  
 **Fandom:** Teen Wolf    
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Characters:** Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Braeden  
 **Word count:** 2,857  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Teen Wolf or any related properties.  
 **Warnings:** The Hale fire still happened in this AU, but no one died.  
 **Summary:** Laura begs Derek to visit the animal shelter and make a new friend. Derek goes, and somehow ends up with both a kitten and a date.

 

*****************

“You’re so lucky you’re cute,” Derek says as the orange fluffball that had been examining him from her vantage point on the white industrial tile floor starts clawing her way up the light denim covering his right leg.

The moment the kitten reaches his hip and Derek detaches her only to bring her up to eye-level and press her wet nose to his own is the moment he knows he shouldn’t have let his sister Laura bully him into visiting the Beacon County Animal Shelter.

_“You need a pet, Derek. Something to get you out of bed every day. I’ll even spring for the adoption fee if you go there and make a friend. Just go and look, please. For me?”_

And Derek, unable to deny her anything, had found himself poking his fingers between the gray steel cage bars at various animals that either yipped, barked, mewed or hissed back at him.

One kitten had been sitting in an upper corner cage alone, staring off with bright blue eyes at the landscaped shelter yard through a window on the other side of the cattery. It'd also been ignoring Derek with what seemed to be a single-minded resolve ever since he'd stepped into said cattery.

Gazing at the reserved Cheetos-colored kitten (and Derek thinks it’s an apt description because around the eyes and mouth it's a lighter shade of orange, like the color of the actual cheese puff. The rest of it is pretty much the same shade of vibrant orange as his cheese powder-coated fingers after he’s eaten an entire bag of the snack in bed), Derek had been compelled to know more.

He’d taken a moment to examine the sheet of paper in front of the cage, noting the sex (female), her age (unknown, thought to be 2 months old), her name (Freckles, which Derek thought was a terrible cat name), and her disposition (“Aloof, but likes to cuddle once you get to know her” was the description in cursive). He’d threaded the fingers of his right hand through the bars while he read, and was pleased when he felt a tentative, wet nudge against his fingertips.

Derek had summoned a shelter volunteer over and pointed out the kitten, asking for some time to get to know her outside of the cage. That was how he’d ended up standing in a cheerily-decorated meet-and-greet room at the back of the shelter filled with colorful toys and cushions, sizing up a kitten who’d promptly decided he wasn’t so much an intimidating human as a particularly tall cat tree.

So that’s where he is now, standing in an animal shelter with a kitten settled in the crook of his elbow. Derek is frozen in position, trying to remember at which point he lost control of his life (probably when Paige died next to him after the car he was driving with both of them in it was hit by a drunk driver, and definitely after Kate tried to murder his family by burning down their house so that he could claim the insurance money and then she could steal that from him and murder him too. They’d all escaped, but their house had been a total loss, and after he’d devoted his life to getting Kate thrown in prison, Derek had drifted into a depression so deep that he hardly left his apartment).

He’s almost worked himself into a panic attack when the kitten starts purring and licking at his black leather jacket.

“Hey, hey, quit that! I can still put you back!” Derek threatens, even though he knows the threat is entirely empty. He’s smitten and he should have known Laura knew exactly what she was doing when she made him promise to come here.

“Fine, I guess you’re coming home with me.” He reaches down and chucks the kitten under the chin with his free hand, pleased when it chirps at him.

He opens the door to the room and hikes the kitten up on his shoulder, moving her so that she’s draped over his right shoulder, her small body cupped nearly entirely in his hand to hold her against him. The second he steps out into the hall, he promptly collides with another body.

Both he and the other person wobble hard. The other guy, and it is a guy, does a complicated jig to keep his balance as he juggles the black-and-white puppy he’s carrying in his arms.

The kitten, and Derek realizes he’s definitely taking her home because he’s already thinking of a new name (maybe Spitfire?), hisses and digs her tiny claws into his jacket. He can’t feel it, but he winces anyways.

“Whoa! Sorry! Everyone okay?” the guy asks, checking over the puppy before looking up at Derek. “Uhhh…”

Derek watches as the guy’s mouth gapes open a little. The puppy takes the chance to lean up and lick the guy’s chin, leaving a shiny smear of saliva over his pale, mole-speckled skin.

“Blech! Not cool, dude. Not cool. You gotta warn a guy before you try to French him!” Derek can’t help but snicker, which makes the guy’s amber eyes snap up to him again. “Oh, I see how it is. He’s stealing your moves.”

The guy’s eyes widen and he abruptly turns pink after he seems to register what he’s said. He literally takes a step back as he starts backpedaling with “Not that you’d need to pull moves on me. I am easily wooed. Not that I’m asking you to woo me. Or that you’d want to. Oh my god, shut up, Stiles.”

Derek smiles. The guy, Stiles apparently (and it’s a weird name, almost worse than Freckles for a cat), is cute. His brown hair is styled softly upward with gel, and his cheeks are light pink from the cold, which the purple scarf he has loosely flung over his neck and shoulders doesn’t seem to have helped with. Derek can tell he’s lean and wiry under his red T-shirt and the blue jacket with the ribbed collar and cuffs he’s wearing. The well-fitted gray jeans also aren’t hurting him, even if he doesn’t fit Derek’s type. Although, since Derek’s type appears to be gorgeous women with murderous vindictive streaks, he can’t say he wouldn’t welcome a change.

“I wouldn’t mind…uh…wooing. Or being wooed.” Derek is shocked at his own audacity the moment the words leave his mouth, but he doesn’t try to take them back.

As a bonus, his fumbling comeback also stops Stiles’ flailing around.

“Oh…um, really?”

Derek reaches out and pets the puppy on the head.

“Taking home a new friend?” he asks, trying to alleviate the sudden awkwardness.

“Foster pup,” Stiles says. “My friend Scott works as a vet here, and when he gives me the puppy eyes, we usually end up with another boarder for a couple of weeks. And this little guy needs a checkup so we can decide if he’s ready to go to the kennels for adoption.”

He holds up the puppy and makes him wave his white-tipped paw at Derek.

“I’m calling him Bruce,” Stiles adds.

“Wayne or Banner?” Derek asks without thinking. He’s watched a lot of movies while curled up in bed with his laptop. It gives him something to do in between the bouts of depression where he stares at the wall and the short, slightly manic, but mainly productive periods where he completes the freelance web design jobs that are paying his rent and keeping him in Chinese takeout.

Stiles’ face lights up.

“You’re a comics fan?”

“Movie fan,” Derek says sheepishly, rubbing his left hand over the back of his head. His fingers collide with the kitten’s shoulder, and she mews unhappily at him.

“And you? Foster or adoption?” Stiles asks, shifting Bruce to his left arm so he can hold out the fingers of his right hand for the kitten to sniff. She twists daintily around in Derek’s hand, smelling Stiles for a moment before she gives a delicate sneeze, sending a fine mist of snot out over Stiles’ hand. “Eugh, kitten boogers!”

“She’s coming with me,” Derek says, scratching her chin as Stiles wipes his hand off on his pants. “I’m still working on a name.”

“Sneezy,” Stiles suggests immediately. “Speaking of names, I’m Stiles. Stilinski. Stiles Stilinski. Well, Stiles isn’t my real first name, but no one can pronounce that, so I’m Stiles, and I like it, and I’d totally change it on all the legal stuff, but it was apparently my mom’s dad’s name and she’s gone now and that would seem like a terrible affront to her memory and…yeah, Stiles.”

Derek blinks, trying to parse all of that out before he catches onto the fact that Stiles is still waiting for him to introduce himself. Bruce whines softly from Stiles’ arm, squirming a little in his grasp.

“Derek Hale.” He holds out his hand, which Stiles promptly shakes firmly. “And I don’t think Sneezy’s quite right.”

Stiles’ face scrunches up with a thoughtful expression as he studies the kitten.

“Maybe Firefly? ‘Cause of her coloring? It’s a good, strong kitten name. And a great sci-fi show, so you really can’t go wrong there.”

Derek mulls it over for a moment. He turns his head to the kitten and her head swivels up so her blue eyes can meet his gaze.

“Firefly?” he tries out, and she mews at him before headbutting his chin. “She likes it, apparently.”

Stiles beams at him before Bruce starts whimpering and twisting around in earnest. Stiles glances down at him and his eyes widen as he obviously recognizes the behavior.

“Hey, listen. I have to get this little guy walked because he’ll totally pee all over the floor here and I hate cleaning that up, and I’m trying to get him housetrained. Also, I have a feeling he’d pee in my Jeep later just because I embarrassed him. Plus, I just really hate setting people, well dogs, but dogs are totally people, too, but I hate setting them up to fail and yeah. Where was I? Oh.”

His eyes flick quickly up and down Derek’s body before he looks Derek in the eyes again, a pleased smile on his face.

“Once you and Firefly get all settled into your place, which I’m sure is some sort of feline wonderland, do you maybe want to get a cup of coffee? Or tea? Or hot chocolate? I should probably avoid caffeine so I’m not bouncing off the wall during our date. ADHD and caffeine are sometimes a terrible, wonderful combination.” He pauses, and Derek is frankly impressed at how many words he can get out on a single breath. Then the word “date” filters through to him, much like it seems to have for Stiles, whose eyes have gone wide. “Not that it’s a date. Unless you want it to be a date, in which case, yes, absolutely, it’s a date and…”

Derek decides to take mercy on him and cuts him off with a “Stiles.”

“Oh. Right. Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” Stiles looks a bit incredulous, like despite his earlier confidence he wasn’t actually expecting an affirmative. Derek’s frankly a bit shocked at his own daring (and agreeing to any sort of personal interaction with another person, even if it’s just a coffee date, after Kate is a pretty big leap in Derek’s book).

Firefly takes the opportunity presented by Derek’s distraction to scramble out of his grip to his shoulder. She then uses his ear as a springboard to scramble up on his head. Derek can feel her flop down on top of his dark hair with a tiny exhale of air. Her swishing tail ends up tickling the back of his neck as her front paws dangle down in front of his eyes.

“Really,” Derek says, feeling more than a little ridiculous. He tugs at the collar of his jacket, but the motion does nothing for the tightness in his chest. “I…uh…some tea sounds nice. Toss in a donut and it’s a date.”

The grin Stiles gives him makes Derek grin in return.

“Awesome, dude!” He shifts Bruce in his arms again, gaining a free hand and using it to dig through his back jeans pocket for a smartphone, which he hands to Derek after tapping at the screen for a moment. “Give me your number and I’ll text you. Are you free tomorrow? There’s this really great little hole-in-the-wall shop on Main Street. Amazing maple bars.”

“Those are my favorite,” Derek admits as he programs his number into Stiles’ phone. He hesitates over the name box for a moment, wanting to enter himself as something suave like “Sexy Guy” or “Man of Your Dreams,” but he chickens out, types “Derek Hale,” and hands Stiles his phone back after saving the information.

“I would have taken you for a bear claw guy,” Stiles says as he tucks his phone away, “but it’s hard to turn down a good maple bar.”

Bruce whimpers again, his cries growing in volume.

“You got it, little man.”

Stiles reaches up, and for a moment (one in which Derek’s heart rate skyrockets) he thinks Stiles is going to stroke his cheek. Instead, Stiles shakes one of Firefly’s limp paws, almost putting his knuckle in Derek’s eye.

“I owe you a catnip mouse, my fair lady. You make an awesome wingwoman.”

Derek’s cheeks color and Stiles gives him a grin with a smug edge to it.

“You two get settled and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

And with that, Stiles and Bruce disappear down the shelter’s short hallway.

Derek’s eyes cross as he tries to look up at Firefly. The cool, smooth pads of her paws tap against his eyebrows as he shifts and she chirps at him.

“Wingwoman, huh?” She makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like agreement, and Derek huffs.

“Alright then,” he says as he starts walking in the opposite direction Stiles took. “You’ve officially ingratiated yourself. Let’s go home.”

Before he’s taken more than a dozen steps, Derek’s phone buzzes against his hip from its position in his front pocket. He fishes it out and sees the notification for one new text on the screen as he arrives at the adoption counter. A pretty black woman with long, wavy brown hair, blue scrubs, and a nametag that reads “Braeden” giggles as she hands Derek a clipboard full of adoption paperwork, eyes on where Firefly is sprawled over his head.

“You two are _so_ going on our website, Facebook too, so you better sign the photo release form,” she says as she rises to apparently go fetch a camera.

Derek grimaces, but he doesn’t dare disagree. After all, a man with a kitten on his head can’t really give a convincing argument.

Instead, he looks down at his phone screen, opens the message, and reads _Hey, this is Stiles. Puppy and donut guy. 2 p.m. tomorrow at The Donut Hole on Main. See ya there! =)_

 _Looking forward to it,_ he sends back, then saves Stiles’ number into his phone.

Smiling, Derek reaches up with his free hand and starts scratching blindly at Firefly’s ears and head. He puts his phone back in his pocket with his other hand before he picks up the pen and starts filling out his name, address, and other particulars. Firefly starts purring, a low rumble which sends a strange tingle throughout Derek’s entire scalp.

For the first time in a long time, he has something to look forward to tomorrow (even if his date with Stiles goes horribly wrong, although he’s optimistic — Him! Optimistic! — that it won’t).

He also has a reason to get up in the morning, one which he is positive will claw his face up and yowl his ear off if he doesn’t have her vittles prepared on time. Plus, he’ll finally be able to call Laura and have something good to tell her (he’s feeling so generous and good about the world that he won’t even make her pay him back for the adoption fee like she promised).

Now that’s he thinking of his family, Derek thinks maybe he’ll even get up the courage to call his parents today. It’s something he hasn’t been able to do on his own for three years, no matter how many times they tell him they don’t blame him for what happened. (Laura comes over to his apartment and holds his hand for the duration of every call. It makes him feel pathetic to need that kind of constant reassurance for something so simple, but he’s always so grateful when she sees his distress, takes the phone, gives their parents their love before hanging up, then just hugs him until he stops shaking.)

Thinking of Stiles’ grin, Derek smiles softly. If he can get himself invited out on a date, he can surely call his parents without having a panic attack.

Pleased with himself, Derek leans his forehead into Firefly’s paws and lets his smile grow wider as her purring amps up a notch. He scratches her ear again.

“Good kitty. I think you and I will be just fine together.”

 


End file.
